Chapter 30: Mom. Dad. I'm doing better this year.
Upper Fire Month, 14th Day, 600 AGG
"Are you sure?" Yuriko sounded hesitant. "It's your day off, and I'd feel kinda bad if you wasted it watching me mope."
"It's not a waste," the words made Draudillon angrier than she expected. Why couldn't the angel value themselves more? They performed an uncountable number of free resurrections, provided security for the Draconic Kingdom with godlike summons, took care of her when she was tired, took care of her when she was drunk, took—
'Stop.'
The dragon queen drew her lips together with a blush as she cut off that line of thought.
The point was, Yuriko did so much for so little in return. It rubbed Draudillon the wrong way. The angel deserved to be rewarded for what they had done, deserved more than whatever trifles Draudillon had to offer, and even those had been turned down by them.
"It's not a waste," she repeated herself. "I just don't think you should have to be by yourself while you grieve."
"I—" Draudillon winced as Yuriko teared up again. Gods, did she mess up again? Even with her considerable skill in oratory and reading people, why couldn't she find the right words to say when it came to Yuriko? "Th-Thanks. I mean it."
"It's the least I can do," Draudillon gingerly took the angel's hand, treating the mind-bogglingly powerful woman as she might a delicate glass sculpture. "Will we leave now, or are there things that need to be grabbed first?"
"… we can go now," Yuriko said in a small voice. "『Gate』."
The angel waved their hand, reality parting in the motion's wake. Draudillon stepped into the portal after her and was greeted with the sight of a Cherubim Gatekeeper hovering over two large stones that a group of goblins were groveling in front—
Goblins?
"What the—?" Yuriko muttered, the unexpected sight temporarily shocking the sadness out of her. "Just, what?"
"H-Humans!" The goblins noticed them and promptly went into a panic. Offerings—or at least what Draudillon thought were offerings—were dropped on the dirt as the green demihumans scattered into the huts that filled the sunlit glade.
"I take it you weren't planning on having visitors?" Draudillon dryly asked. Were the goblins worshipping the gravestones?
No, she glanced back at the Gatekeeper. It was the lion-headed angel that they worshipped. Judging by the expectant looks they were giving it from their ramshod wooden shelters and the surrounding forest, they must have believed it to be some sort of protector.
It wasn't surprising that they would begin to revere it as a god.
"N-No," Yuriko still had a baffled expression on her face. It was cute—i-it was infinitely better than seeing her sad. "Why are they all just…?"
"You left the Gatekeeper here to prevent these markers from being disturbed," Draudillon guessed. "Right?"
"Right," Yuriko slowly nodded her head as she continued surveying the memorial site. "I told it to keep this place safe."
"And so the goblins eventually noticed that and decided to settle down here for safety," Draudillon pointed from the surrounding shelters to the Gatekeeper. "It doesn't have to actively eliminate dangers to their community. Just the threat of its presence alone is sufficient."
'Will some of them eventually become goblin clerics?' Draudillon wondered. 'After all, the Six and the Four weren't real gods, yet priests still derive power from their faith to them. Why should a summon be any different?'
"That's good. It's a little nice knowing that people feel safe here," a sad smile traced Yuriko's lips. "You think it'd be fine if we left them here?"
"That's up to you," Draudillon's thumb rubbed the back of the angel's hand. Overpopulation might end up being an issue considering how fast goblins bred, but it didn't feel like the best time to bring that up. "Do you need some time alone, or…?"
"Alone…" Yuriko faced the two stones, "If it's okay, could you stay? Sorry if that's—"
"I'll stay," Draudillon quickly asserted. "So," she flicked her eyes to the foreign inscriptions on the stones and back to Yuriko. "I'm assuming these are their names?"
"Azami Hara," the angel pointed at one stone before moving her finger to the other. "Yasu Hanami. Mom and dad."
"Those are nice names," Draudillon lamely replied. Encouraging her people after they suffered losses from beastmen incursions was easier than this. "You must have plenty of good memories with them, to set up a memorial in an entirely new world."
"Mm," Yuriko laid her free hand flat against the stone for her mother. "They were always super busy with work, but e-even when they were really tired, they always worried about me—if I was eating enough, if I was making friends at school, if I—"
The angel's voice broke. "I, I miss them."
Draudillon silently stood by her side. What good were empty platitudes here? Words alone could not produce miracles.
"I tried resurrecting them, y'know?" Yuriko's eyes were puffy and red as she pulled her composure back together. "It, well, I guess you can see that it d-didn't work."
'I wish I could do more,' Draudillon powerlessly thought to herself. Either tier magic—even that of the Ninth-Tier—was useless when it came to affecting other worlds, or her parents lacked the lifeforce necessary for resurrection. Perhaps Wild Magic could succeed where the angel's magic failed…
If only she knew where to start. Not for the first time, Draudillon regretted her neglect in practicing her primordial birthright. She did try to do a little each day, ever since the beginning of the month, but her limited personal essence was proving to be a difficult obstacle to overcome.
"It's been ten years now," Yuriko continued, unaware of Draudillon's internal conflict. "I was fifteen, and I just started senior high school."
"What—no, nevermind," Draudillon pushed her contemplations to the side, though not in time to completely avoid the verbal snare. "That was tactless of me. I apologize."
"It's fine," Yuriko helplessly smiled. "Anyone would be curious, right?" The angel, for all her glory, looked small before the gravestones. "I…"
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Draudillon quietly said. "Not everything has to be shared."
"I want to talk about it," Yuriko took in a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know. I don't know how they d-died."
"That's…" It sounded awful. Draudillon, for all that she mourned the untimely sickness that claimed her own parents, at least had assurance in the knowledge of their end.
"The news said the building collapsed," Yuriko's eyes stared off into the distance. "Other people said it was a gas leak. Some websites said it was corporate sabotage. In the end, I went and checked it out for myself…"
Draudillon winced as the angel's grip on her hand tightened. "They were already in the middle of tearing the place down, and I got told to never come back if I knew what was good for me."
"And then?" Yuriko's fingers loosened as she unconsciously pulled Draudillon's arm closer to her body.
"And then I dropped out of school and started working," the angel shrugged. "I was really lucky; not everyone got the opportunities I did. I don't think I have the right to complain about anything."
Yuriko gnawed at the inside of her mouth. "But I just can't help but wish… ha… it's pointless to think about."
A muted pall fell over the pair. In the background, the goblins cautiously watched them from afar with bated breath, curious as to the intent of the two humans who had appeared from a purple hole in the air.
"My own parents," Draudillon broke the silence. Recalling mother and father's deaths was unpleasant, but it was only fair that she reciprocated Yuriko's sharing of something so personal. "They died from an illness when I was a child."
"They did?" Yuriko snapped their head towards her. Draudillon was relieved to see that their eyes were filled with worry instead of the hurt she had been bracing herself for. "I, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. If you want me to—"
"Don't," Draudillon softly rejected the offer. "I'm not sure if I—or the kingdom—am ready for that yet. What I meant was that I understand. I understand how you feel. Besides, I…"
'I don't want them to look at me with disappointment.'
"Oh," Yuriko shakily brushed a strand of flaxen hair out of her face. "Okay. I get that. If you ever want to, y'know… Well, I'm here. A-And I'm really glad you were willing to share that with me."
"I'll keep your offer in mind. If you want to talk more later, I'll always have time for you."
"Mm! I'd like that. Although for now, I guess we should probably go check on the goblins," Yuriko hesitantly gave a thumbs-up. "Sorry for giving you more work even though I was telling you to take a break…"
"Don't be upset," Draudillon returned the smile. "You go on ahead though; I'll be right behind you."
"Take as long as you need," Yuriko released her hand, and took a step towards the goblin band. "I'll just be—uh, over there!"
The dragon queen nodded, watching goblins before directing her attention back to the rough etchings on the gravestones.
"I'm sorry," Draudillon whispered as the unreadable names burned themselves into her mind. "I'm so sorry."
The dead didn't respond. How could they? They were dead.
Draudillon wanted to throw up.
"I," she licked her dry lips. "Because of me, your daughter had to kill. Because of me, she has to bear the burden of millions of lives."
Draudillon wondered how Yuriko's parents would have replied if they still drew breath. They would've despised her, she thought, for what she'd dragged their daughter into.
"You two must have loved her a lot," she brushed the tip of her finger against one of the stones. "And for someone as detestable as myself to get close to her… as her parents, you would've hated me."
Yuriko Hanami deserved better.
"I accept that," Draudillon felt numb inside. "If mother and father were here, they would despise me too. The things I've allowed to happen…"
She turned around and saw Yuriko pouting while talking to a small group of goblins. The demihumans were gathered around the angel as she seemed to be trying—and failing—to explain something.
Draudillon couldn't help but smile. She turned back to face the gravestones again. Even though Yuriko deserved more than what she could give—
The dragon queen didn't want to let go of her angel.
"Forgive my insolence, but I think I'll stay at your daughter's side for a little while longer," she lowered her head before the twin monuments. "It's shameless of me, I know, but I swear I'll grind myself to dust if it means relieving even a fraction of her burdens. That is, while still upholding my promise with her, of course."
She didn't know what she was expecting by laying out her guilt to people who could no longer hear it. There was no grand moment of absolution, no heavenly purgation from beyond the boundary.
Draudillon still found herself feeling a little better though. As if by letting out the thoughts that tormented her, she had earned some measure of certainty in her fate.
"My presence may not be welcome, but I'll visit when I can," she promised the deceased. "I need to go now. I'm afraid your daughter might end up creating a marauding warband of goblins if I left her by herself."
The dragon queen would have prayed had she been a follower of a god. As it was, there was no such comfort for her, not with the knowledge that there were no deities that governed from beyond the material realm and that the souls of the dead were merely laid to rest within the cradle of the World.
"Rest in peace," she mumbled before taking a step back and turning around. There was a village of goblins and an angel to wrangle—
'Gods, what is that smell?' The raven-haired queen halted in her tracks. She looked down and saw a wide-eyed goblin staring up at her.
Draudillon wrinkled her nose. It was tolerable from a distance, but the stench of the child-size demihumans was unbearable up close.
'No, no, I need to try to be nice. Yuriko is happy that they're here,' Draudillon forced herself to smile and wave at that goblin. "Well met. I am—"
"Friend of Wings!" The goblin squealed. "I, Gork!"
"I-I see. It is… good to meet you, Gork. If you would be so kind, could you take me to 'Wings'—?"
"You!" Gork pointed a knobbly finger at her with an awed look on—his? She couldn't tell—his face. "You really friend of Wings?!"
'Oi. Stop interrupting me,' Draudillon's eye twitched. "Yes. Yes, I am."
"Okay!" The answer seemed to satisfy Gork. "Friend of Wings come with me!"
Draudillon followed behind the goblin, feeling more than a little foolish as she did so. Thankfully, the small size of the glade meant that they quickly reached the throng of goblins gathered around the angel—who had chosen to reveal their pure-white wings—and another Cherubim Gatekeeper that must have been recently summoned.
"—No, look. You can't just dump your, um, garbage here!" Yuriko sounded upset, feathery pinions shifting about in agitation.
"Then where we go?" A goblin that seemed quite a bit bulkier than Gork scratched their scarred head. A goblin warrior, maybe?
"Dump it, dump it in the forest!" Yuriko jabbed her index finger at the forest that surrounded the clearing. "Just not here! Anywhere but here!"
"Excuse our impudence, Winged One," a goblin with the sharp gleam of intelligence shining in his—somehow, it was already getting easier to notice the slight differences—brown eyes. "But your servant's protection does not extend to the forest. Many beasts know this and wait for us to stray away from your revered monument."
Yuriko cupped her chin in her hand, her brows furrowed in concentration. A few seconds later, she looked at who Draudillon presumed was the leader of the goblins. "You don't have to worry about monsters anymore. Just dump it—"
"Wings! Wings! Wings!" The goblins went mad with ear-splitting shouts of approval as the vast majority of them began jumping up and down. "Bad wolf die! Bad wolf die!"
Poor Yuriko appeared completely overwhelmed, her six wings nervously flapping back and forth. The angel had experience in managing groups of humans—the beastmen had for the most part been left to Draudillon, ironically—but the goblins were certainly no group of humans. Maybe it was the gods-awful miasma of body odor that surrounded them.
Draudillon wondered if it was cruel of her to want to laugh.
"Quiet," the eighteen or so—no, twenty—goblins immediately shut their mouths as she decided to step in and aid the floundering angel. "From now on, all of you will only speak when you're spoken to."
"O-Ooooh!" Gork widened his eyes and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Friend of Wings says no talk!"
"Gork shut up!" A one-eyed goblin next to Gork angrily slapped him upside the head. "She say only talk after she talk—ack!"
The brawny goblin put the one-eyed one into a chokehold. "Wings and Friend no talk to you!"
"She no talk to Rog too!" A shrill female goblin kicked the goblin warrior between the legs, causing them to collapse to the ground with a howl of pain. They cackled in triumph only to be cut off when another goblin tackled them to the ground.
Before long, a full on melee had broken out among the gathering. Draudillon and Yuriko helplessly looked on while the band violently squabbled among themselves.
'Strange,' the dragon queen thought to herself as she narrowly avoided a clump of grass and dirt to the face. 'They were definitely listening at first. Is it because complex orders are too difficult for them to follow? Or could it be that my 'levels' aren't sufficient? No, beastmen have already submitted before with uncanny ease; there must be another reason.'
If tier magic was a constant that existed both in Yggdrasil and her world, then it stood to reason that levels and other concepts could as well. She made a mental note to discuss the topic at length with Yuriko later.
"All of you!" The goblin leader roared in anger. "Shut up!"
The goblins all ceased their clamoring and fights, fists and feet paused in mid-motion.
"You dunces should be ashamed of yourself, showing such a sorry sight to our protector and her friend!" The leader glared at the pitiful goblins. "Why, I ought to…"
"Um," Yuriko's wings drooped in mental exhaustion if the look on her face was anything to go by. "I'm really happy you guys are excited about this, but I think that uh, we need to go now." She glanced at Draudillon. "So just please remember to put all your… trash away from this area, thanks."
"Wings leaving?" Gork piped up only to be knocked unconscious by a pair of goblins behind him.
"Yeah, b-but only for a bit!" Yuriko pressed her palms together while bowing forward with closed eyes. "We'll be back. Promise!"
"Winged One, we shall await your return! Though we may not be a proper tribe, a proper welcome will be prepared for you and your friend upon your next visit!"
"Great!" Yuriko stiffly grinned and waved to the goblin leader as she lightly tugged Draudillon along with her: out the crowd of goblins, out of their nascent hamlet, and into the cover of the forest.
"Oh my God," Yuriko groaned as she plopped on the ground against a tree. "That was…"
"Interesting?" Draudillon offered.
"Interesting…" Yuriko pulled a face. "Did you notice how bad they smelled?"
"They would take that as a compliment, I think," Draudillon half-smiled. "But yes, I did notice."
"Yup," the angel sighed and furled her six wings back into whatever void they came from. "Yuuup."
Draudillon sat down next to Yuriko upon realizing that they weren't planning on leaving just yet.
A cool breeze blew past them, whispering through pale-blonde and pitch-black tresses alike. Dappled sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leafy canopy to speckle their skin with spots of solar radiance.
The dragon queen closed her eyes with a soft exhale. The short vacation hadn't been so bad, despite her initial concerns about work and whatnot. Spending time with the angel outside her typical station of rulership was nice. Really nice.
'I should go outside and touch the grass more often,' Draudillon mused as she inspected a long stemmed plant between pinched fingers. 'Wandering out here by myself would be dangerous though.'
The forests of this world were filled with monsters and lethal traps that could easily claim the lives of the unprepared. Ivy that insidiously lay in wait for prey to strangle for nutrients, sentient trees that would sooner slay interlopers than suffer their presence, flowers with beauty matched only by their lethality, and many more among other threats.
She didn't feel all that worried. Where she was currently lounging may very well be one of the safest places in the world.
The leaves continued to rustle overhead. It was a relaxing noise, Draudillon thought. Relaxing enough to fall asleep to.
"Y'know," Yuriko suddenly spoke up. "I usually get pretty down when today rolls around, but this year I was so distracted with the goblins that I didn't have the time to feel too depressed."
The angel cracked a small smile towards Draudillon. "And you were here too. Thanks, I… I really appreciate it."
"It's—Thank you."
"Why are you thanking me, silly?" Yuriko giggled, her countenance brightening like the midday sun breaking through a cloudy sky. Draudillon stared. "Um, is everything okay?"
"Oh. Y-Yes," she coughed into her fist before replying in a smaller voice than she would have liked. "I'm just glad that… that you didn't find me to be a bother."
"You weren't," Yuriko firmly uttered. "You'd never be a bother."
How could that be true? It felt like a lie in spite of the sincerity that shone forth from the angel's bearing.
"I'm nothing but a bother," Draudillon tearfully murmured. Gods, why couldn't she get a grip on herself? "How can you even say that with a straight face?"
"If it wasn't for you, I don't think I'd be able to even function like a normal person," Yuriko took her hand into their own. "Like I said before, I've received a lot from you."
"I'm supposed to be the one comforting you," Draudillon squeezed Yuriko's hand. "Not the other way around."
"But isn't this fine too?" The angel beamed. Draudillon's chest tightened at the sight; it was hard to believe that it was meant for her. "It makes me happy when you're happy."
'Gods, does she—no, don't get your hopes up. Friends say that to each other, don't they?'
"I, uh," the dragon queen stammered, stunned by the exuberant declaration. "L-Likewise."
"Yeah," Yuriko's cheeks slightly reddened, and Draudillon endured the urge to embrace her on the spot. "S-So, um, wanna head back?"
"Are you sure you want to return to Almersia now?" Draudillon looked up at the sun, at the nascent goblin village, and finally at Yuriko with a playful grin. "The sun has yet to set, and surely you have some words to spare for your loyal followers, no?"
"Ugh… It feels so messed up," Yuriko grimaced. "How do you deal with it? With everyone constantly looking up to you and thinking you have all the answers?"
"I've been raised to be a ruler since birth," Draudillon gently reassured her companion. "It isn't something that comes without practice—without living it."
"You're amazing," the sincerity in Yuriko's praise nearly threw her into another bout of stuttering. "I don't think, no, there's no way I could've ever kept an entire kingdom together like you did."
"Th-That much is to be expected," Draudillon quickly turned her face away. She wasn't sure what kind of expression she should be making before the angel right now. "… But I'm grateful you feel that way."
"It's true!" Yuriko insisted, leaning just the slightest bit closer as she did so. "You're amazing. You are."
"Alright!" Draudillon loudly changed the subject. She didn't know how much more of Yuriko's admiration her heart could take. "We're going to spend the rest of today figuring out what you want to do with this village; it'll be irresponsible if you leave them with just the few words you had given."
"Right!" Yuriko stood up and pulled Draudillon to her feet, dragging the dragon queen behind them as they ran towards the huts with a determined gaze. "But you'll have to help me with it!"
"You're incorrigible," despite her words, Draudillon found the corners of her lips tugging upwards. This wasn't how she had expected the day to go, but—
"Wings!"
"W-Wings and Friend!"
"They return?!"
"Stupid, they make promise! Duh!"
In record time, the goblins formed an excited mob around the pair, the grassy clearing quickly becoming saturated with the shouts and enthusiastic babbling of the green-skinned demihumans. Twenty worshipful pairs of eyes fixated themselves upon the angel, waiting for whatever divine wisdom the six-winged being had to dispense. Yuriko shot her a pleading look that was almost comical in how desperate it was.
Crystal clear laughter bubbled up from the dragon queen's throat.
The sun had never shone so beautifully before.
"Vizier Veejanu," Varush wryly smiled. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting for long."
"Hardly," the Direworld Orthrous snorted from underneath his wyvern-skull helm. "You returned quicker than I expected."
Varush shrugged and continued walking to the massive vault-like doors of the Vayul Archives. Ithit grumbled to himself before falling in step behind the Buffalo Minotaur.
"Authorization?" A flat voice came from one of the Mithril Golems that guarded the archway that towered over the concourse in front of the Archives. Varush and Ithit halted before the stalwart guardians that stood even taller than the High Vizier.
"High Vizier Varush Aanyaj," the Buffalo Minotaur placed a hand over his chest before gesturing towards Ithit. "Vizier Ithit Veejanu."
The Mithril Golem paused for a few seconds, mana conduits humming while it considered the pair.
"… Confirmed," the golem straightened and returned to its post. Varush and Ithit passed by the silent sentinels as the titanic stone doors slowly shifted out of the way. They treaded down the hallowed halls, ascended up one of many spiraling stairwells, and into the upper sanctums where the ritual waygates were constructed.
"How decadent," Ithit muttered under his breath, side-eyeing the beautiful carvings and art that lined the walls of the sanctum's foyer. "Is any of this really necessary?"
"You know how our colleagues are," Varush sighed in resignation. "I would be careful though; more than half of the baubles you may think to be useless are trapped to the teeth."
"Ridiculous," Ithit curled his snout in disgust. "Small wonder we're in the crisis we are now."
"No one could have predicted the events of the past month and a half," Varush gently admonished the Orthrous. "It does none of us any good to ruminate on what-ifs."
"Right. Of course."
Varush smiled in encouragement. "What matters now is that we're finally going to do something about it. Better than just waiting for our demise, is it not?"
"You're terrible at this," Ithit glanced at him with an expression of scorn before focusing his attention on the Golem—a lithe one made out of some sort of unfamiliar pink crystal—that they were approaching. "Requesting teleportation to as far west as the waygates can reach."
"Request acknowledged—" the Golem cut itself off; a set of spasms and miniature lightning ran through the disjointed crystals that its body was consisted of. "Destination set to Shatterstone Pass."
"What?" Ithit sounded shocked. "What is this nonsense?! The waygates can clearly transport beyond—!"
Varush laid a hand on Ithit's shoulder and shook his head. It was clear that this was the work of Archive leadership and perhaps of fellow Council members. He didn't fault them; it made sense to temporarily restrict teleportation to the west on the off chance that the waygates could be traced by the new champion of the humans.
The timing was too convenient though, Varush thought even as he bitterly drew up his resolve. This wasn't going to be the smooth or quick journey he had been hoping for.
"Let's go," he pulled out his peerless two-handed warhammer, the Chaukmati Crusher, and hefted it over his shoulder in one smooth motion. "We've little time to waste, now that the waygates have been limited."
"Very well," they stepped into the middle of the waygate: a massive stone circle shimmering with the light of enchantments and filigreed with the same pink crystal that the golems were constructed with. "Tch. No Archive spellcasters are present—"
The grinding of gears filled the room as more of the crystal golems appeared from hidden storage compartments. They surrounded the waygate and linked their arms together, tinted lightning racing across the encirclement of constructs. Arcane energies thrummed in the air, and the filigree that lined the waygate gradually began to light up.
"Did those fools attempt to replace themselves with golems?!" Ithit's words were filled with outrage—and a small amount of fear. "We must leave now; this might be a clumsy assassination attempt, but if all of that mana—"
"Ithit," Varush calmly silenced the Orthrous. "Even if this was an attempt on our lives, we would still need to reach the lands of the humans somehow. Starting at Shatterstone Pass will already slow us down. We cannot afford any more delays."
"Isholranth damn it!" Ithit spat on the ground as the waygate bent reality around it. "I swear, I will haunt you or your own for all eternity if this kills us!"
"You'll have to get in line then," Varush murmured, watching several of the golems shatter from being overloaded with mana. "Get ready."
One moment, they were inside one of the many sanctums of the Archives. The next, they were faced with an unwelcome vista of a savage mountain range bereft of vegetation.
Brutal spikes of stone hung over the perilous pass in defiance of natural order, ranging in proportions from the size of smaller beastmen to colossal menhirs that Varush felt could rival even dragons. Cruel shrieks and roars echoed throughout the rocky sierras, a testament to the untamed bloodthirst of the frontier.
"Wyverns in the skies," Ithit squinted his eyes on the nearly indistinct blobs in the sky. "And barbarian tribes in the pass. There's elementals and trolls plaguing the mountains themselves too, aren't there?"
"Irrelevant," Varush huffed. "Time is not on our—watch out!"
He yanked the Orthrous back before they could be pulped by a boulder thrown from above. Varush glared up at one of the perilous ledges and saw a pair of Mountain Trolls preparing to continue their primitive salvo.
"Distract them!" Varush roared to his companion as another boulder filled his vision. "『Strength of Arms』!"
A red glow enveloped his stout upper limbs, and Varush swung his Chaukmati Crusher. The Adamantite warhammer slammed into the oversized projectile, pulverizing it into little more than dust.
The Buffalo Minotaur frowned. It was a useful one-time use Martial Art when one wanted to increase their strength, but the way it hampered his senses and dexterity was unpleasant.
"『Summon Nature's Ally Fourth』," Ithit raised his staff into the sky and called forth some bizarre fungal monstrosity that floated up towards the trolls. The Mountain Trolls pointed at the bulbous summons and laughed before one of them picked up their club and swung at it.
Its stone club pulped the fungal creature, releasing a cloud of green specks over the loathsome pair assaulting the two Viziers. Varush took the chance and rushed towards the ledge as the trolls began coughing up blood.
'Since Ithit hasn't warned me not to advance, the spore cloud likely isn't a lingering effect,' Varush leapt up and crashed right in front of the furious trolls. "『Physical Boost』, 『Strength of Arms』!"
A surge of strength filled his body even as a sluggish sensation weighed him down. It didn't matter. His warhammer collided into the first Mountain Troll, forcing chunks of organ and blood to fly out of its disgusting maw.
"『Reverberating Impact』."
The warhammer pulsed with an unseen force, and then the Mountain Troll was nothing more than specks of flesh and gore painting the crags of Shatterstone.
"—!" The other Mountain Troll let out a wordless bellow of rage as it charged towards him with grasping arms to avenge its fellow—
"『Heavy Blow』," Varush forgoed『Strength of Arms』, knocking the Troll back with insulting ease. "『Samadhi Chrysanthemum』."
The Chaukmati Crusher squashed the Troll's head into a red paste and pressed the barbarian's body into the ground where it was vaporized in a mesmerizing burst of searing flames.
Varush lowered his hammer, the blood that had tainted it burned away by the intense fires. He carefully dropped down from the ledge before the awestruck Vizier.
"I had heard tales of your strength, but to see it for myself…" Ithit bitterly chuckled. "It's another thing entirely."
"Perhaps," Varush allowed himself a quick smile before his countenance grew grave once more. "Even if you believe me to be strong, do not grow lax. Shatterstone is not kind to the unwary and overconfident."
"That goes without saying," a hint of annoyance crept into Ithit's voice. "We need to hurry. The wyverns smell blood, and I imagine they aren't alone."
"Indeed," Varush groaned. "Indeed they aren't."
This would not be a peaceful pilgrimage.